Posted in 2017, New Stuff


We all have skills, skills we resist to call upon or use
Byproduct of all we’ve been through
Stories if shared that would be news to those close
Loved ones still reading chapters long closed
Miles in the rear of the window, 5
Prisoner to whichever way the wind may blow
Born to insulate internally,
Made this way to deal with temps zero below or worse
Intuition which dictates where to go next
Limited options due to another’s nepotism 10
Only regarded in terms of who’s our next of kin
Judged by issues we’re advised to be for or against
Answers to questions, each used as a historical reference
Ideals which represent our differences of thought
Lines in the sand used to explain how the lost and found works 15
Excuses to explain, either smiling or frowning faces
Two individuals, opposites sharing time and space
Neither innocent in terms of crimes against humanity
Walls built to protect the merits of our convictions;
The undisputed power of belief 20
Euphoria born from anguish and it’s subsequent release
Given life to merely die away like fallen leaves
Piece of trash, all unworthy of the grief shared by the masses
More like slaves bought to be raped nightly by masta,
Transgressions long forgotten, taken out for pasture 25
Told the past is the past, so it holds no relevance
Convinced by another to advance past this moment
Advised to ignore the merits of any such movement;
Witness to what happens when sense isn’t so common
Victims of groupthink, all in unison when faced with problems 30
All quick to proclaim, cut it off till it’s their limbs we cut off
Those who wait to reminisce what they miss until its lost
Unconcerned with payment, till it’s time to pay the cost
Uninterested with prayer till faced with a crisis of faith
Compelled to look upon tomorrow with an about face 35
Made to re-analyze your own purpose and place
Stuck relying on intuition to determine where to go next
Made this way, to deal with temps zero below or worse
Born to insulate internally
Prisoner to whichever way the wind blow 40
Miles behind the winds,
Loved ones getting caught up on chapters, long closed,
Stories if ever shared, would be new news to those close
Byproduct of everything we’ve been through
Skills resisted to be used or call upon.


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